Fever
by Jemmiah
Summary: Will ObiWan fall victim to a terrible illness?
1. Default Chapter

****

TITLE: Fever

By Jemmiah

With thanks to the following people:

Jane Jinn for An-Paj

Healer Leona for Healer Leona

Mouse for Rela Quinn, Mrs. K, Brak and Tuffy

Jemmiah Gleshan, Spider, Gethin, Ferdi, Simeon and Evla belong to Jemmiah. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi & Qui-Gon Jinn belong to George Lucas.

*********

**__**

* BEEP *

"Go away!" Jemmiah growled at the holoterminal. "I'm busy! Can't you see that?"

It was always the same, she reflected unhappily. Whenever she had somewhere she had to be in a rush, that would be the very second that she received a call. She actually hoped for a brief moment it would be someone trying to sell her something, like cheap windows or a new and revolutionary form of washing powder, so that she could pick a fight with them. Sith, she was ready to give them a screaming match if they wanted it…

//No. Ignore it.// She urged herself. //You're not obliged to answer it.//

__

* BEEP *

"Shove off!" Jemmy yelled, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, hair all over the place, sweeping it away from her face with such a violent movement that she nearly scalped herself with hair-entangled fingers. "OWCH! Look what you made me do! How's a girl supposed to get ready to go out on the town with all these persistent interruptions? Gimme a break!"

__

* BEEP *

"I've only got…" she locked hastily down at her wrist chrono, "…three and a quarter hours to get ready, and that's cutting it fine! So do me a favor and just kriff off!"

Silence.

Jemmiah blinked, surprised. 

"Huh!" She pulled an uncomplimentary face at the holo transmitter, feeling somewhat miffed that it had cut out without putting up a good fight. Tame competition indeed! "Well, you couldn't have wanted anything important, could you?"

A hasty brush at her hair didn't do very much to change its appearance. It still hung in a thick mass of tangled chestnut, maddeningly wavy and contrary, always seeming to do what it wanted as opposed to what she wished. Oh, for hair like Rela's! Proper curls, not the crimpy spirals that she had been cursed with. Straight hair would have been nice too, but oh no! The force couldn't even have got that right!

"I hate the force." Jemmy tossed her hairbrush to one side.

She scooped her hair up into a Nerf's tail, so that it stood up on her head like a palm tree. It would have to do for the time being. Ben always had complimentary things to say about her hair, even when she herself was despairing over it. At first she thought he was just being nice but now she realized that he genuinely liked it. Then again Jemmiah had discovered that he just had an obsession about red hair in general.

//It's not as red as Rela's hair.// Jemmiah mused, posing infront of the mirror and giving a series of little half twirls, first one side and then the other. //I often wonder why Ben and Rela never dated each other. You know, I have a good mind to ask them. Just out of curiosity.//

**__**

* BEEP! *

"Oh, not you again!" Jemmy gritted her teeth and headed straight over to the holoterminal, relishing the prospect of being able to tell the person on the other end of the transmission to stick their head in the food prep unit. "Right! This is war! If I'm late for my day out with Spider and Rela you are soooooo dead! Do you hear me? Sheesh! Where's Evla when you need her?"

Evla of course was at the crèche, tending to all the disgusting babies and slavering toddlers that dwelt within the chamber of horrors known as the nursery. How she could stand it was completely beyond Jemmiah, who was of the opinion that children should be removed from sight until they were old enough to ask for swoop flying lessons. Her guardian however seemed to adore the young children and the Corellian just couldn't see the attraction whatsoever. Then again she sometimes couldn't understand what had made Evla offer to take her in either. What had she ever seen in her?

"Certainly couldn't have been my mad hair that appealed to her!" Jemmy grumbled, rolling up her dressing gown sleeves and stalking the holoterminal like it was some kind of prey. She stood beside it for a moment, composing herself and taking a large, deep breath to relax herself. Releasing it, she fixed a smile on her face reminiscent of a Red Snapper hunting in the swamps of Southern Corellia.

"Good morning, Tzu-Yitcha's laundry service. Can I be of assistance?" she asked in an overly sweet voice.

"Eh?" a familiar, if choked voice on the other end replied after a moment had passed.

"We have three main services: sonic wash, steam clean and plain old-fashioned water. Guaranteed to get the most persistent stains out of the oldest pair of undergarments. No disintegration or your money back!" Jemmy purred into the transmitter.

"Jemmiah…is that you?" wheezed the voice in reply.

"We also do socks." Jemmy snapped back. "I recommend getting the socks done. That way if they do disintegrate it'll be no loss. Ben!" She glowered at him, squinting at his image on the holo screen. "What do you think you are doing? I'm supposed to be getting ready to…"

"Jemmy, I'm sick." Groaned Obi-Wan.

"What?"

"Really, really sick." He stared up at her through reddened eyes, skin looking distinctly clammy and lustreless.

"Again???" Jemmy's eyebrows performed the 'I don't believe it' dance that Obi-Wan had cause to know really well over the past years. "Why, what's wrong with you this time?"

He sighed mournfully, shoulders sagging.

"I don't know." He muttered. "I'm all shivery and cold."

"Put an extra blanket on." Jemmy folded her arms unsympathetically.

"And my head is pounding." 

"Lie down then." Jemmiah offered.

"And my skin is all prickly."

"Could be lice." The Corellian voice grunted back.

"Jemmy…I could be dying here. You don't seem to be treating this with the seriousness it deserves!" Obi-Wan coughed, a deep raking sound that even had Jemmiah wincing in sympathy.

She scrunched up her face in thought, wondering what he expected her to say.

"Ben, you are not dying. What you have there is a cold, that's all. Take something for it and go back to bed. Put yourself into a nice, sustaining healing trance and this time tomorrow you will be…"

"Dead." Obi-Wan held his head in his hands. "That's what I'll be. That's how I feel."

"Why are you men so feeble?" demanded Jemmiah, shaking her head despairingly. "You have a cold and you think that it's double pleurisy!"

"That's because with me it usually turns into double pleurisy!" Obi-Wan was still stung by her lack of sympathy. If he died suddenly would she even care? He was seriously beginning to doubt it.

"Go to the healers then." She replied finally.

Obi-Wan's eyes, sleep encrusted and gummed up as they were managed to convey the horror he felt at her words.

"How can - you even - say - that?" he demanded, his words interspersed with coughing. "You are a cruel woman!"

"If you won't go to the healers there can't be that much wrong with you."

Stalemate. He wouldn't budge and neither would she. His next tactic was obvious, the one he usually resorted to when he wanted to get his way. A last ditch attempt to gain her sympathy, reminding her of the circumstances he now found himself in, how he was all alone and unable to look after himself. It wasn't the first time he'd used such a technique. Only a few months ago when Qui-Gon had been called away on a matter of some urgency, leaving Obi-Wan behind for a matter of days, Obi-Wan had managed to come out in an almighty - if uncomfortable - rash that had covered seven tenths of his body. On that occasion he had gone to the Hell's Chance Cantina and overindulged, free from his master's watchful, hawk-like eyes.

"Have some respect for the mortally ill." Obi-Wan groaned. "Jemmy, please? Come over and visit me? I'm stuck on my own because my master's holed up on some backwater planet and can't get back until he manages to find a replacement transport."

//Yeah?// Jemmy registered that piece of information with considerable interest. 

"How long's he going to be away for?"

"He doesn't know. But he thinks we might be looking at another week."

"Trust you to get germs when we could be having fun." Jemmiah groused. "If you thinking I'm letting you…breathe all over me you can think again."

"Jemmiah, I feel ghastly and I'm on my own. Please?" he begged her with somewhat deranged looking eyes.

"What, now?"

"Yes, if you could." He wheedled her.

"But I'm going to go out with…" she let her words trail away to oblivion.

How many times when she had been younger, still suffering from her over-burdened and severely weakened immune system, had Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon sat anxiously beside her bed? Not exactly holding her hand but at least trying to help her recover as quickly and painlessly as possible, using the force to speed up her convalescence…and now she was about to turn her back on her ailing boyfriend? It sounded ungrateful and inconsiderate, and she was inclined to be neither. She couldn't really justify putting her day of gallivanting and shopping before the welfare of a somewhat hypochondriac Obi-Wan, could she?

//Damn!// Jemmiah wanted to smack the worktop before her. /Damndamndamn!//

"Okay. I'll be round. But you'd better really be sick!" She warned him with a reproving finger. "Or germs will be the least of your problems, got that?"

She cut the transmission off abruptly, not wanting him to see how disappointed she was. How long had they been planning to go out together? Rela was going to be most put out…

*****

"W-what did you say?" Rela asked over the static of her com link. "Say again?"

Jemmiah closed her eyes and began again. Telling Rela she was calling off at such short notice was bad enough, but having to do it over a very dodgy holo connection was making matters so much more difficult.

"I said I can't go shopping today." Jemmy repeated. "Obi-Wan's sick."

"Did you say…can't go…sick?" Rela's voice wavered for a moment and Jemmy wondered if she'd lost the connection completely.

"Yeah…Rel, I can't hear you very well. Can you hear me at all?"

"Sorry…connection…kriffing…hate this lousy…very bad…stupid Brak…kick him when I next…can't hear you…"

"Rela…I CAN'T GO OUT! Did you get that? Obi-Wan says he's ill. Sounds like he's coughing his last to be honest. All he does is just lie there and groan a lot."

"…What's new?" Rela's voice became momentarily sharp and loud, and somewhat insinuating.

"You heard that bit, I notice." Jemmy said wryly.

"Sorry…brea…king up aga…in…kriffing…Brak…murd…er…him…"

"Rel, I have to go. I'm so very sorry." Jemmy pouted miserably. "He's not well and with Master J being away I guess I should look after him. He's complaining of headaches and nausea. He's convinced that if he goes to the healers they'll tell him its' Nubian Blister Fever or something potentially fatal like that."

Rela paused for a long moment.

"Hello? Rela?" Jemmy yelled at the connection. "You still there?"

"Jem…shouldn't you…isola…tion…he's…so…sick…?"

"Rel? You're awful distant!"

"Nu…bian…fev…er…very…danger…ous…might catch it…off…" 

"Hello? Rela, I'm sorry but I have to go now. I can't hear what you are saying. I hope you don't mind but I have to stay by his side because he won't let me leave him. I was looking forward to going shopping as well," she attempted to wither the door to Obi-Wan's bedroom with a heated glare worthy of a rampaging Draigon, "but I guess that's the way my life goes. Please say sorry to Spider when you see her. Tell her to pick me out a nice, black mourning outfit. I have the feeling," the glare heightened on the back of the door, "that somebody might be needing it quite soon. Bye for now, Rel."

Jemmy drummed her fingers on the work surface, her thoughts extremely gloomy. It was just typical of her luck to get saddled with a sick Obi-Wan. A fully fit Obi-Wan was a much better proposition. The force evidently had other ideas. The one time they had the place to themselves - and they couldn't use it to it's best advantage. Judging by the way her boyfriend was complaining if they attempted anything of the sort the he'd probably pass out with the effort.

"I hate the force." Jemmy repeated.

"Jemmy…" Obi-Wan groaned from inside his room. "Could you get me a glass of water?"

"Now I REALLY hate the force!" Jemmiah snapped, marching through to the kitchen area. "Okay, okay! Keep your braid on…"

********

Rela let her arms slap aimlessly at the side of her body. Trust Kenobi to mess things up!

Still, Nubian fever was extremely serious. There had been an epidemic on Ylix just a year ago, which had led to a mass of hysteria regarding inoculations, precautions against the illness and generally panic whenever similar symptoms were spotted. The infirmaries were swamped with patients fearing they had contracted the illness. Obi-Wan was in the best hands as far as being at the temple was concerned but still…

And Qui-Gon wasn't even there.

The truth was she didn't feel like going shopping anymore, but neither did she feel like getting too close to Obi-Wan either. She wasn't being a rat, just sensible. How could she help Obi-Wan by catching the illness herself? Jemmiah was much braver than she was, sitting by his side and mopping his brow. Given her own medical history Rela was surprised the healers had let her anywhere near him! And then if Jemmy were in contact with him they would have to keep her away from Evla in case she passed the diseased onto the crèche kids! It looked as though Jemmiah was getting her wish to spend more time alone with Obi-Wan after all…

She called Spider to tell her the bad news, and the girl with the bi-colored hair had simply agreed that it was a waste of time going shopping when they were worried about what might happen to Obi-Wan and Jemmiah, then declared she was going to lock herself inside her apartment until the inevitable epidemic died down. 

Oh, and did Rela know what the incubation period was for the disease? Because all four of them had gone drinking together only three nights ago…

Rela swallowed. She hadn't thought about that.

Looking down at her arms she almost imagined that she were coming out in fulminating blisters, but then she saw they were freckles and calmed herself down. The way she was carrying on she might as well be Obi-Wan…even if it sounded like he had good reason to be sorry for himself. Nubian fever was not a pleasant thing to get by all accounts. 

Mrs. K! She would know about Nubian fever! She knew everything about each illness in existence - the woman was a walking medical encyclopaedia (and had no doubt suffered from each and every one at some point or other). Her mind thus resolved, Rela straightened her jacket and headed next door. And considering the mess he'd made repairing her holo connection, Brak had better pray he didn't meet her on the stairs outside!

*********

"Nubian fever!" Edna Krabople made the ancient Ympranese sign of luck to ward away evil spirits, using a single finger in the air. "My goodness! How terrible…I remember when I was a little girl there were cases of Nubian fever all over Coruscant! It cut swathes into the population on the West Side of the planet, terrible, horrible…disfiguring for life all those who survived it's ungodly ravages!"

"Survived?" Rela's eyes grew wide. "I know it can be downright nasty but still…"

"Oh, that poor young man and that dear, sweet girl! This is such an awful thing to happen! Cut down in the very flower of life!"

"Cut down? He's going to be fine…you don't know the old misery like I do." Rela felt herself becoming more and more shaky. "He'll fight it off."

"The mortality rate for Nubian fever is eighty five percent!" Edna shoved a book under Rela's nose, highlighting the relevant disease with her fingernail. "See? There…after it talks about continual and involuntary defecation."

Rela swallowed.

"I don't feel so good. I'm gonna go lie down." She replied. "And don't tell anyone about this. We don't want a mass panic on Coruscant! I think somehow that would be very, very bad indeed…"

"Oh, you can rely on me my dear Rela!" Edna called after her as Rela grabbed hold of the door outside and then clutched instinctively at the railings, pushing herself back to her apartment. "I won't say anything that I shouldn't!"

As Rela reflected that Spider's idea of locking herself away was not too bad after all, Mrs. Krabople ran instinctively towards the holoterminal, carefully shooing Tuffy out of the way.

"I'm sorry, Tuffy dearest." She tried to pacify her disgruntled looking pet ferret, rolling on his back for attention. She gave his tummy the briefest of tickles before keying in the number of one of her closest friends in her neighborhood watch scheme. Mrs. Dulip would surely know exactly what to do.

SQUEAK!

"Don't look at me like that. I know what I am doing…it's only a little call. Maybe one or two others, but that's it. I promise…hello? Ephesia, is that you? You'll never guess…the most terrible thing has happened virtually on our own doorsteps!"

Tuffy gave in with a final desolate squeak and went off in search of shiny treasure.


	2. Fever Part 2

****

Fever: Part 2

By Jemmiah

********

From Edna Krabople the word of Obi-Wan's condition spread to Ephesia Dulip. From Ephesia Dulip it spring-boarded on to Hester Colcumber. By the time it had finally winged its way to Senga Grolumph it was guaranteed to be passed all round the planet via every neigborhood watch member in Mrs. Krabople's select group. Suddenly the holonet news got hold of the story.

"JEDI TEMPLE IN BUG SCARE! KILLER DISEASE HITS CORUSCANT AS PADAWAN FALLS VICTIM!" Screamed the headlines. "AN UNNAMED JEDI APPRENTICE FIGHTS FOR HIS LIFE!"

Rela switched on the news, just to relieve the boredom she was feeling at being stuck inside her home. It hadn't taken her long to feel thoroughly miserable with her self-imposed exile from the rest of humanity. She hated being bored but more than that she hated being utterly alone. Even before the Togorian holo broadcaster Morraowth had opened his mouth to speak, Rela's eyes were all but out on stalks. A huge picture of the jedi temple appeared on the screen, with the caption 'PLAGUE ZONE' written underneath in big, red Aurabesh lettering.

"Oh noooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Rela squealed, clasping her hands over her face in shock. "Edna! What have you done???"

More to the point, what was she going to do?

She tried to call in at work but they refused to let her within a mile radius of the Dawn 'Til Dusk. The patron knew that Rela associated with the temple and told her to stay well away. All the regular customers had deserted the place, knowing that Rela knew many of the padawans and feared that she in turn might infect them with the killer disease. Mus had attempted to calm things down but had apparently failed.

Swallowing back her initial desire to do something horrible to Mrs. Krabople's apartment, Rela instead decided to contact the temple in a hope of finding out how poor Obi-Wan and Jemmy were faring. 

//Somebody should really get poor Qui-Gon back.// Rela thought miserably. //He should know that his padawan is at death's door. It's only fair...//

********

Three hours later and Rela still hadn't been able to contact the temple infirmary.

Every time she tried to get through to someone in authority she received a message saying that a matter of considerable importance had taken priority and that if she wished to leave a message somebody would contact her in due course. Rela felt utterly defeated. For all she knew Scrubby could be dying and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. No doubt the temple had been besieged by journalists ever since the news had first hit the holo broadcasts, which was why her messages weren't getting through. Or maybe, she reflected bitterly, her now almost defunct holo transmitter was making so little sense that Simeon or Dimallie was convinced she was some kind of illiterate half-wit that couldn't complete a proper sentence.

//One last attempt. Just one.// Rela urged herself. //Go on. Do it for Scrubby.//

To her surprise she was answered almost straight away. The astonished, if exhausted face of Simeon Cates stared at her as if she were a mirage.

"Hey…Frizz…you tell me…how Obi-Wan…doing?"

"Sorry?" Simeon shook his head.

"Obi…Wan…ill…Jemmy said…sick with…fever…"

"Rela?" Simeon blinked at the flickering face on the transmitter screen. "If that's you and you just said what I thought you said, that's not very funny. We have an emergency going on here! Some idiot's been passing a story around that there's a case of Nubian fever in the temple infirmary and we can't trace the source! The place is a nightmare! We've had reporters trying to get in! They are camped outside, demanding to know what we are doing to contain the outbreak!" Simeon smiled evilly, remembering his master's witty reply. "So An-Paj said they should come in and he'd show them first hand! I've never seen a group of people collectively shuffle backwards with such speed!"

"…can't hear…transmission…ver…bad…kill Brak! He's…kriffing…lied about…fix…fault worse than ever! Obi-Wan is…ill…Jemmy told me that…hello? Frizzy…you still there?"

"Rela, I can hardly understand a word you are saying!" Simeon squinted up at the transmitter, flicking his black braid behind his ear and out of the way. "Your voice is all distorted and your face has got more lines than the complete works of Eraepsekahs!"

"Beg…pardon? I can't…understand a word…what…about Obi…Wan?"

"What about him?" Simeon began to look ever so slightly frustrated. "Rel, we've got an emergency here. I've been fielding calls all day! It's driving me banoodly! What's wrong with Obi-Wan?"

"…Sick! I keep…telling you that Jemmy said he was very…ill! He's got…Nubian blister…fever! What do you…think this emer…gency is about?"

Simeon shot back in his seat, utterly stunned. His eyes were so big that Rela thought they might engulf his entire head.

"What?!?!" The padawan exclaimed. "How do you know?"

"…said so! I think I've said it…about a thousand…times now! She said…ill and…Edna says you…suffer…"

"You're breaking up Rel!" Simeon shouted at the screen. "C'mon, don't disappear on me!"

"…Kriffing Brak! I'll…his kriffing…neck for this!"

"Rela!" squealed Simeon.

"…Said that you…blisters and…constant bowel evacuation…high temp…erature."

"Obi-Wan has?" Demanded the padawan, jotting down notes on his keypad as she spoke.

"Y-E-S! Kest, what do you…have…do...get any attenti…on around here? Cut your…ing leg off?"

"Hey! I'm doing my best! I can't help the fact you sound like Nigel Nerf on Drek when you speak!" Simeon eyed her, thinking how beautiful she looked when she was angry and had horizontal interference lines running across her face. "So, let me recap. You say that Obi-Wan has got Nubian Blister Fever and that he is the source of the infection, yes?"

"…I…give up!"

"Hey, I was speaking to him only yesterday!" Simeon's jaw dropped in shock, immediately checking himself over for little telltale blisters just as Rela had earlier. "Sith! That's not fair! I've probably it passed to everyone in the infirmary! And that little kid I treated for sliding down the banister and grazing his knees has gone back to the crèche! It'll be everywhere!"

"…With Obi-Wan too!" Rela insisted. "…might give…Evla…pass on to…kids in the crèche!"

"Jemmy!" Simeon yelped. "Jemmy's with Obi-Wan? Did she tell you he had signs of the fever? Who told her?"

Rela rolled her eyes but said nothing.

"Rela, you're a saint! No, you're more than a saint. You're a goddess!" Cates surprised himself by blowing her a kiss at the screen, then blushing radish red when he realized what he had done. "I'm going to let An-Paj know what's happened. We'll get back in touch with you as soon as we can. If you've been anywhere near Obi-Wan or Jemmy recently please stay as far away from other humans as possible until we've got the situation under control. Speak to you later!" Simeon turned away from the screen and made as if to yell something.

"It's Obi-Wan!" Simeon decided that this crisis was a suitable time to break the 'no shouting in the infirmary rule.' "He's the one with the fever!"

And then Rela's screen cut out completely.

Rela gritted her teeth. Great. Just great. What was she supposed to do now? Stuck on her own in isolation for fear of passing on very nasty bugs indeed to other human beings? She'd be out of her mind with boredom in mere minutes, resorting to channel hopping and kicking her legs about as she lay on the sofa, waiting to succumb to the illness…

Outside she heard tuneless whistling. Tuneless whistling that she found VERY irritating at the best of times. Normally it served to alert her when to stay out of the way, and especially as she was in a makeshift quarantine she should really continue to follow her instincts and remain hidden, but now…

The footsteps outside her door stopped. Rela took a big breath and opened the door.

"Hello Brak!" she grinned, waving him inside her apartment. "Would you like a hot drink?"

"Well…" Brak looked astonished.

"Do come on in." Rela's grin became fixed, almost manic. "Do you like germs or biscuits with your caf?"

**************

"What do you mean, it's Kenobi?" Demanded An-Paj, smoothing his crystal white hair back from the crown of his head. His antennae twitched slightly in consternation. If this was the case then why hadn't Kenobi been taken down to the infirmary to start with? Usually in rare medical cases such as this - not that it had ever happened in the temple before - if there were to be a breach in confidentiality the patiently was usually in the infirmary before the rest of the galaxy found out something was wrong. It didn't make sense at all!

"I'm just repeating what Rela said, master." Simeon replied respectfully. He trusted his master's instincts more than anything yet he also knew that Rela would never knowingly make something like that up. So what was he to believe?

"I smell a very large rat, Simeon." An-Paj placed a hand on his padawan's shoulder and tried to steer him away from the mass of activity and bustle happening all around him, the flurry threatening to encroach upon his thoughts as he strove to see his way through the whole mess. Definitely there was something here that didn't add up. 

"I promise I am telling the truth!" Simeon crossed his heart.

"Oh, I believe you young man."

"And you can trust Rela too." Added the padawan.

"Yes, I agree. So, what we've got to look at is the facts. Here we have a reported case of one of the most lethal illnesses in modern history, arriving within the temple without any signs whatsoever and no other reported cases leading to the individual we believe to be responsible for this," he gestured around him with a circular motion of his hand, "insanity. We have the word of Rela Quinn, although in turn we do not have a clue as to how she found out Kenobi had contacted this virus."

"I think she said Jemmy told her." Simeon offered blankly.

"And where does Ms. Gleshan get her medical facts from?"

"Obi-Wan?" guessed Simeon.

"Correct. The galaxy's greatest living hypochondriac, and coincidentally the galaxy's worst ever patient." An-Paj wearily passed a hand over his eyes, rubbing the tiredness away. He could just hear wife number two lecturing him on getting bags under his eyes by pulling at his skin that way.

He dropped his hand like a scolded child.

"Still," he continued in a thoughtful voice, "we have to balance this with the fact that Obi-Wan IS…well, Obi-Wan. The Kenobi factor in itself should be enough to make this warrant close investigation. And just so that there are no outcries of us not following procedures I want everything done by the book, however ridiculous it might seem. I want three healers to go to Kenobi's apartment - FULLY suited up - and bring him down here in the nearest turbo lift. Then I want the turbo lift and everything that's been in contact with Kenobi to be fully disinfected. He's going straight into isolation until we get to the bottom of this fiasco."

"Jemmiah's with him too." Simeon felt obliged remind him.

"Well, then. In that case we find another little room for Jemmiah. All by herself. And this time she WILL stay put in that bed, if I have to pay a Hutt to sit on her!" An-Paj's antennae straightened purposefully. "You fetch Healer Territ. I'll get Ferdi and Leona."

As Simeon turned to walk away, An-Paj called something over his shoulder.

"Oh, and padawan…you might want to take the large butterfly net with you. It seems Master Montal has got loose in the corridors again."

**********

"Urggggghhhh." Obi-Wan whimpered as he turned over on his side. "I'm dying. I really am."

"Ben, you're not dying. You have a cold." Jemmiah told him. "That's all. In a day or two you will feel just dandy." She paused before adding, "if you went to the healers you'd have recovered this time tomorrow, instead of lying there malingering. If you get a chest cold don't complain to me about it!"

"A…a chest cold?" Obi-Wan squirmed away from the soothing hand that had been stroking his hair. "You think I'll get a chest cold?"

"Ben, knowing you I would say that was a given, wouldn't you?"

"But it'll be ages before my master gets back!" Obi-Wan said dimly. "What do I do in the meantime?"

"Stop acting pathetic and get on with your life?" Suggested Jemmy helpfully. "Ben, I don't understand you! I've rarely seen anyone so brave in my life! Give you a target to fight against and you're unstoppable! Give you an opponent to outsmart and you'll win every time! So how come each occasion you catch a cold you decide you're going to die?"

"You don't know how terrible I feel." Obi-Wan groaned.

"Did you take that medicine I brought round?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"It was horrible." Admitted Obi-Wan, pulling a disgusted face. "But I still forced it down."

"But did it help?"

"Well…yes. I think so." Obi-Wan shrugged. "But I feel so cold!" His face became coy. "Don't you want to climb under with me and keep me warm?"

"I knew it! There's nothing wrong with you!" Jemmy snapped at him, bristling. "I'm not doing anything of the sort whilst you've got germs! Do you think I want them too?"

"If you loved me you would…"

"Don't start that garbage again!" Jemmiah scolded him, smacking him on the back of his hand and then grabbing his wrist to check his pulse. "I could have been shopping with Rela and Spider! I gave up my afternoon for you! Not that you appreciate the fact!"

"I do." Coughed Obi-Wan. "Really I do."

"Doesn't sound like it."

"Please, Jemmy. Don't shout." Kenobi winced as her voice became more strident. "My head hurts. Every little sound causes my head to swim."

RRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNGGGGGG!

Obi-Wan reached for his pillow in the vain hope of shutting out the persistent sound of the door chime. He didn't want to guess who it was. In his sickened state the force revealed nothing to him, except the continual high-pitched scream of the chime. A thousand swooping Draigons could not have made more noise if they had tried.

"Urggggggghh! Answer the door please, Jemmy?" Obi-Wan pleaded from underneath his pillow. "They're trying to kill me."

"I know how they feel." Jemmiah tutted as she looked down at the prone figure wrapped and swaddled with his blankets. She didn't understand how someone as intelligent as Obi-Wan could possibly carry on in such a way. Germs were never pleasant things to have yet there was something about the male psyche that turned the humble cold into a life or death drama. Jemmy decided not to argue with him for once, walking slowly out of the doorway - although mercilessly slamming his bedroom door shut as loudly as possible - before finally making her way over to the main entrance. 

"Okay, where's the fire?" Jemmy grumbled, sliding the door back to face - 

Healer Leona? Ferdi Xadaani? And Gethin Territ?

What on Coruscant did they want?

"Leona?" Jemmy peered past the protective suit, the clear plasti panel proving an effective barrier between them. "Is this some kind of weird fancy dress party that I wasn't told about? Or is someone having a laugh?"

Leona's reply sounded tiny, speaking as she was over the com on her suit.

"Sorry Jemmiah. I don't want to frighten you at all but we've come to see Obi-Wan."

"He's sick right now…" Jemmiah faltered slightly. "He won't see anyone. Especially not the healers."

"What's the matter with him?"

"Well…nausea. Shivering. Skin's very clammy. His eyes are very bright. It's just a cold, that's all." Jemmy began to feel slight concern for the way that Leona was enquiring after her boyfriend. 

"Do you mind if we take a look?"

"He won't let you." Jemmy folded her arms. "He made me promise not to get anyone in unless he was actually about to croak."

Maybe it was the large, intimidating presence of Ferdi on the right shoulder of Leona that persuaded her to relent. Maybe it was the handsome, winning smile of Gethin Territ (well, from what she remembered - she couldn't really see it beneath the suit) instead. Or maybe it was the knowledge that if she didn't step aside Leona would quite happily inform Qui-Gon the minute he set foot back on temple property…

"Okay…" Jemmy grumbled, moving aside to let them all through. "But I'm warning you now. He won't like it."

"Let us worry about that." Leona stepped past her, suddenly all business like now that they had gained access to Obi-Wan's rooms. "We have orders from high above. Obi-Wan is returning with us to the infirmary to undergo tests."

"Tests?" Jemmiah demanded. "What sort of tests? You know what he's like with healers!"

"…And what is more you have been ordered to come with him too. Just to be on the safe side."

From inside Obi-Wan's room there came a loud squeal of distress.

"Certainly, there's nothing wrong with his lungs." Leona observed.

******************

TWO DAYS LATER:

"Negative. No readings for Nubian fever. No readings for anything much at all." An-Paj mused as he examined Obi-Wan and Jemmiah's results. "Hey-ho. Just another piece of flimsy to gather dust in the Kenobi case file mountain."

"W-w-what IS wrong with me?" Obi-Wan turned dazed, uncertain eyes upon the master healer.

"Bad news, I'm afraid."

"Bad news?" the padawan swallowed. "What bad news?"

"You have a cold."

"Is that it?" An-Paj felt certain that the breath of relief that Obi-Wan released could have been heard all over Coruscant. "Just a cold?"

"You sound disappointed." Observed the healer, surprised. "If you'd come to see about this the moment you first felt it coming on we could have nipped it in the bud before it even started. You'd have been back home in an instant, enjoying your lessons and studies that Master Jinn set you whilst he was away."

"So, you can cure me completely then?" Obi-Wan's face cracked into a smile. "I can go back home now?"

An-Paj could see instantly the kind of lessons that Obi-Wan had on his mind and they weren't on any recommended padawan syllabus as far as he was aware. He was tempted to give Obi-Wan something to make him slightly drowsy, sure that Qui-Gon might actually thank him in the long run, but his healer's ethics and his own conscience did not permit it. 

"Evla back at the crèche, is she?" An-Paj guessed, knowing he was correct when rewarded by Obi-Wan's guilty blush. "Young man, let me give you a bit of advice. There's a saying I think you may have heard of which seems particularly relevant in this instance: 'when the cat's away the vrelts play'. My point is this: the cat may come back at any moment."

"The cat you are referring to is safely out surveying his territory." Obi-Wan smiled; relieved that he wasn't actually going to die this time. He hated illness: he hated anything to do with being unwell. The only thing worse than being ill was watching the people he loved suffer instead.

"You're sure of this?" An-Paj wondered.

"Master An-Paj, Qui-Gon was stuck on some nameless floating rock in the far, empty reaches of space. I doubt anything will change in a hurry to let him come back." Obi-Wan sat up in bed, rubbing his hands. He felt markedly better. His cold had all but gone, only a slight dry cough persisting now that the rest of the germs had been vanquished. Jemmy was right: it had been stupid to think that it might be something more serious.

"As you say." An-Paj shrugged. "We've managed to get rid of the holo crews that wanted to film in here. You can go home now. Just don't overexert yourself. I shouldn't like to see you back in here so soon. Oh, there were a couple of messages for you whilst you were locked away in here…one from Rela Quinn. She says she's sorry. Very, very sorry."

"Sorry for what?" The padawan frowned.

"I'm sure you'll find out. And another one here that…"

"I'll read it when I get back." Obi-Wan smiled, suddenly feeling hungry. "Right now I have a lot of catching up to do."

An-Paj sighed, and tucked the flimsy message into the pocket in Obi-Wan's robe. 

Some people never learned.

**************

"So," Obi-Wan grinned at Jemmiah, patting the seat next to him on the couch, "it looks like we've got this place to ourselves at last. Evla's at the crèche, Qui-Gon's stuck on some planet with an unpronounceable name, and I'm completely cured of my germs. So," he raised an intimating eyebrow, "how do you wish to celebrate?"

"Ben, I'm not really in a celebratory mood! I've been prodded, poked at, stabbed with needles, examined, checked and re-checked, had samples of this, that and the other taken from me and been partially dissected all in the name of medical science!" Jemmy grumbled, ignoring the fingers that were trying to slowly pull her closer towards him. 

"But it would be a terrible shame not to make the most of an opportunity such as this." He smiled at her as beguilingly as he could.

"Like what?"

"Like being alone." He winked, leaning against her. "And I think that I deserve a kiss for being so fabulously brave…"

"Brave???" laughed Jemmiah. "I've seen amoeba with more backbone!"

"But I bet they don't kiss like I do!" he tried to demonstrate, his lips almost touching hers…almost touching…almost…just fractions away…

"Ah, good morning padawan!" A crisp voice announced from the fresher room.

Obi-Wan and Jemmiah jumped apart from each other like they were stung. 

Qui-Gon. His master was back? Here? Now?

"M-mmmmaster?" stammered Obi-Wan in disbelief.

"The very same."

"What are you doing here?"

"Well I was under the impression that I lived here." Replied Qui-Gon in a calm voice, eyes not flinching from his padawan's guilty face for even a second. "I've just got back and I thought as you didn't appear to be anywhere in sight I would avail myself of the shower. It makes such a change to have hot water left." He turned to the stricken Corellian girl. "Hello, Tangles. You like rather pale. Maybe you should see the healers."

"But how…" Jemmy wondered aloud. "How did you get back so quick? Ben said you were stuck on some miserable rock in no mans land!"

"Ah, yes." Jinn rubbed at his long hair with the towel that hung around his neck. "That was rather a surprise to me as well. I thought I would be there until they could find me another craft, which they assured me would be the best part of a week. But the strange thing was that the holo news put about some fabricated story of the temple having an outbreak of the lethal disease Nubian Blister Fever. It's amazing how quickly people will find you a ship to get you away from them when they think that there's a chance you might be infected. Miraculously, one appeared the very next day." He looked at the two of them. "And her I am…didn't you get my message?"

"Welcome back, master." Obi-Wan replied as earnestly as he could, tearing up the unread message in his pocket. Why hadn't he read it before he'd gone back to his apartment?

"Yeah, welcome back Master J." Jemmiah seemed even less enthusiastic than Obi-Wan.

"It's not all good news, as I would appear to have picked up a slight cold." Qui-Gon admitted ruefully. "I think maybe I'll have a small lie down for a bit. I'm sure you won't mind because I'll be only next door…"

"Of course master. Thank you master." Obi-Wan parroted.

He watched his master's tall frame retreating to his bedroom, feeling all kinds of mixed feelings. It WAS good to have him back. He had missed him. He was glad that he was safe, yet somewhat irritated that his plans for a cozy night in with Jemmy had been negated. When Qui-Gon said he was only next door it had been the simplest warning to behave that he was ever likely to receive. 

From inside his bedroom Qui-Gon gave a long and protracted cough.

"Shall I call the healers," the padawan's eyes lit up with glee, "or shall you?"


End file.
